


Not Good Enough

by sundrygenre



Category: Shameless (US)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-27 12:07:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2692406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sundrygenre/pseuds/sundrygenre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey, Ian and the whole Gallagher clan dealing with Ian's bipolar disorder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First Shameless fic!  
> Feel free to send in requests and comments - sundrygenre

Ian hadn't moved in 18 days.

It had also been 18 days since Mickey Milkovich had gotten a proper nights sleep, or been properly sober for that matter. After 6 days at the Milkovich house without movement or response to his family's prodding and begging, Lip had demanded that Ian go to a facility. To Lip, it was cruel to allow his brother live like this. To Mickey, it was impossible to live without Ian. But, despite the steps he'd taken farther and farther away from his usual fuck emotions and fuck-you-to stance on communicating with those around him, Mickey still found the words lodged painfully in his throat.

He didn't know what else to do but let them take Ian away.

Mandy had been pestering him to go visit Ian. She kept using the horrid word that made the scared little boy in Mickey cringe every time it was spoken;boyfriend. Could he call Ian that even if it had never been established between them? Mickey had never imagined being so close to someone, loving them as deeply as he did with the freckly red-head. What better word to use, he supposed. Something told Mickey however, that even while Ian couldn't communicate with him now, that label weren't necessary. They were so much more than that.

Mickey cradled the bottle of Jack in his hands like a child as he starred up at his ceiling. He's moved out of that tainted house with Svetlana, after his father went to jail he didn't feel the need to stay in the horrible house anymore. He and his brother's had decided to split the rent between them so Mandy could stay though. She wouldn't admit, but Mickey knew she was to in love with Yev to leave.

Mickey's apartment was cramped and small, but that wasn't the problem, he realized as he let the remainder of the amber liquid from the bottle drop onto his tongue. The bed was to big and the covers didn't keep out the cold like Ian's gangly limps did, as they wrapped around him at night, despite his empty threats and protests. He missed the quick kisses he would pepper into Ian's hair while he was asleep and unnoticed, he missed the feeling of knowing that he had something worth fighting for at his side.

His missed his...boyfriend.

Mickey sighed and rolled over. The booze had begun to make his mind wander, he let the bottle drop from his hands onto the grimy carpet and allowed his eyes to droop. Fuck love.

The next day Mickey found himself waking up with a severe hangover. He wondered how it was still possible to feel this bad every time he got drunk. Or maybe it wasn't just the alcohol that made him feel like shit today. He pushed away the covers and began scrambling for clothes, Kev would be pissed if he was late again, one customer in particular seemed to love coming in early before his work at the quarry and getting ruff with one of the tinier girls Vladlena. Mickey wondered for what must have been the eightieth time why the hell Russians had to have such long-ass names.

Time to go smash some faces he thought happily as he wrapped a scarf around his neck and locked the door behind him. He welcomed the distraction of violence that morning, it was familiar,safe.

Mickey was half way to the Rub and Tug when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned quickly on his heel and inwardly groaned.

"Shit." He breathed out, stomping out his recently light cigarette and standing up straighter.

Six men looked back at him with crooked smirks, two with bats and one with a pair of what looked like brass knuckles covering his wrists.

"So Mick," one of the larger one's taunted stepping forward, "Sucked any good dick lately?"  
Mickey didn't respond. There was no point, this wasn't a trial, he, the jurors, the attorneys and the judge all knew what he was guilty of. Now, was the time to wait to hear his sentence. He assessed his surroundings, there was no one on the shady Southside street that morning, and he had absolutly no weapons to speak of or means of defending himself. His trusty bat was behind the counter of the Alibi were Kev had demanded he keep it. He would make that tall fucker choke on his words for what he had done later.

Someone spit on the ground near his feet. He jaw tightened when he realized who it was.

"Joey" he managed to choke out as he stared down his brother.He couldn't say that his presence was unexpected, but the betrayal still stung. He had hoped all his siblings would have stayed by his side after his coming out, but he understood that such a wish was a stretch of the imagination at best.

"Don't say my name faggot." Joey spat coldly. The con looked away, his eyes stinging and puffed out his chest.

"So, are we gonna sit here all days talkin' feelings like stupid bitches," he taunted, "Or are has one of you mother-fuckers got the balls to try and fight me?"

The leader of the squad smiled devilishly and pounced.

Mickey could feel the fist connect with his jaw almost immediately after the words had been spoken. And not shortly after, hissed as the brass knuckles flew into his side. Bats were knocking at his head and knee caps as the ring leader relentlessly wailed on him. Mickey didn't cry and did his best to fight back but understood just as the other men did that there was no way he was going to win this fight. He could taste the metallic tang of blood filling his mouth as he went down.

All he could think of, as the side of his face connected with the harsh concrete of the Southside side walk was Ian, and his stupid freckled face.

-

Mickey coughed. He felt as if he had been run over a by a car. He almost smiled at the thought of his sister but quickly decided against the movement. Everything hurt. He seemed to be laying on a kitchen table, the Gallagher's kitchen table if he wasn't mistaken, he noted that the last time he had been on his back on this same counter he had been having much more fun than he was now.

Someone touched his side, shouting. He winced again. Noise was not something he was up to deal with right now.

"Could you shut the fuck up"

Lip smiled above the black haired boy. "Same old Mickey." He said sarcastically. He was met by a weak finger.

"I'm sorry sweetheart," came V's voice from his right. "But this is about to hurt like a bitch."

Mickey held back a scream as V poured what felt like alcohol on his wounds. Mick did his best not to writhe in agony.

"God damn" he muttered to himself as the nurse whispered apologies to him soothingly. He allowed himself to be touched again however as V wrapped him in sterile bandages and began wiping at the blood on his face.

"What happened?" yelled what Mick could only assume was Carl from the stair case. "Did you win?"

"Fuck no," cursed Mickey, "does it look like I won?"

"Carl, go back upstairs" Fiona fussed, "What did I tell you?"

Mickey heard the younger boy rushing up the stairs moments later. He tilted his head back and sighed, mind still foggy from the pain. He was getting to old for this shit.

After another thirty minutes of stitching and prodding from Veronica, Mickey was left alone. He had dozed off at some point and when he opened his eyes he was looking into Lip Gallagher's face. Lip smirked at him.

"I'm going to assume you won't be thanking my family for helping you tonight." Mick grunted. "I also assume that you won't be taking up Fiona on her offer to let you stay here tonight." Another grunt. Mickey would be damned if he had to spend an evening helpless on the Gallagher couch. "Even though, I doubt you can properly sit up by yourself right now, let alone walk home." Mickey was silent. "I guess I'll be driving you there then," Lip concluded with a sigh. Mickey responded with another grunt.

"Well alrighty," Lip said sarcastically, voice dripping with false cheeriness. "Let's get you home."

After more grunts and mumbled curses on the Milkovich's part, the two boys were driving on their way to Mickey's apartment in Lip's girlfriends car. The two boys were silent on the car ride. Partially because of their blatant dislike for each other and partially because of Mickey's lack of ability to do anything but wince at the pain in his head at the moment.

As Lip was helping Mick out of the car, the older boy heard his phone ring, Lip, to preoccupied with a teetering Mickey,ignored the call and the quiet ping of a text message moments later. After Mick had flopped on his couch he watched as Lip took at his phone and look down carefully at the screen.  
The boy's face began to change into a look of utter disappointment and... shame? Mick couldn't tell.

After a moment of heavy silence Mick barked out. "Well?" Intrigued as to what had Lip so stunned that he was still standing in his apartment like the boy had just been struck by lightning.

Lip looked up and grimaced. "Milkovich, I..fuck..." He helped up the phone for Mickey to see.

It was a message from Ian.

I cheated on him Lip. I cheated on him.

Mick felt in that moment, even after the brutal gay-bash he had experienced that day, that nothing, had ever hurt this bad.


	2. What Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no! Ian how could you?  
> I know I'm updating pretty soon but I couldn't leave off on such a depressing note.  
> Hope you enjoy!

Mickey was sick.  
He couldn't remember the last time he had felt this awful.

It wasn't when his father had pistol whipped him at age five after he'd flushed his coke stash, or when his mother had forgotten to feed him for two days when he was seven and high out of her mind on heroin, or when he had taken that beating from a drug dealer that Iggy had gotten in trouble with at thirteen. None of the shitty past experiences of his shit life could compare to the devastating crush of heartbreak that seemed to be pushing in from all sides. He was suffocating under the weight of betrayal.

-

Fourteen miles from Mickey, laying in a thin hospital gown in an unforgiving white walled and abhorrently sterile room lay Ian. He had finally finished what must have been hours of crying and could finally feel his heart beating again. Weakly but still.

Ian wasn't sure why he'd done it. Cheated on Mick like that. In the moment, he had just need to...to feel something, anything, instead of the blank emptiness of his bipolar disorder. He hadn't moved during the whole exchange, the guy two rooms down had snuck in, licked his lips and came onto Ian, and in the moment, Ian decided to let everything just happen. He'd been waiting for the emotions - pleasure, excitement - that usually came with sex. Instead, the emptiness had become a burning horrible guilt. He had thrown away love from the best man in his life.

Ian rolled to his side, and felt more tears slide of his cheeks onto his pillow. He was crying again. Why the hell did he have to be so weak? So pathetic? Every stupid dream he had ever had for himself seemed like a montage of childish lies. He never would have made it in the army, not with a broken mind. His thoughts wandered to the hopes he had been reserving for Mickey. What was he expecting? That the man would divorce his wife, that they would last forever, maybe even raise a family.

Ian held his hands over his ears as if that would stop the flow of images.

Mickey and him kissing, Ian stroking the U on one of Mick's fingers as they held hands, Ian holding Yev while Mickey laughed at something he had said, dumb arguments, makeup sex, family dinners, road trips...

Ian got out of bed and fell to his knees. He carefully reached under his thin mattress for the only thing that could stop the guilt.

He felt the cold metal of the knife he kept there. He shouldn't be doing this. But those thoughts hadn't stopped him early that night. Ian just wanted to hurt, hurt for what he'd done, for what he would probably do for the rest of his life because of what his shit for brains mother had one with his even shittier father. Fuck.

-

Two days had passed since Mick had gotten beat up and found out about Ian's infidelity.  
In the traditional Milkovich way, Mickey had decided to ignore his problems. He still walked with a bit of a limp and wheezed when he moved to quickly, but had decided to leave his apartment. He knew this sort of activity was bound to tear the stitches in his left side, but at this point, a little physical pain didn't seem like that much to handle. He headed off for the Kash and Grab for a snickers bar, ignoring his phone on the bedside table. He figured that if Ian planned on calling he would have done it by now. And it's not like anyone in his family would really care about his where-abouts anyway, Joey had made it clear that the whole family, excluding Mandy, would not be associating with Mickey ever again.

With a familiar ring, Mickey entered the store.He hobbled over to the familiar candy section and reached for a snickers which he immediately tore open and devoured. He figured anyone, even a bitch like Linda, would give him some slack on a day like this. The bells rang again and he watched with a blank face as Lip entered the store.

"Yo" Lip called out awkwardly, "Mick"

Mick decided to responded to Phillip in his customary greeting, an uninterested grunt followed by a half-hearted wave of a middle finger.

Lip smirked and moved toward to dark-haired boy much to his dismay.

"You look like shit." Lip said slowly as he looked carefully into Mickey's face. The boy rolled his eyes, what was with these Gallaghers? Always trying to analyze and decode you. He wished he could smack the pained expression off the good-for-nothings face.

"I know you don't want to talk about him but Ian-"

Mick cut him off with a raised hand. "Your right college-boy. I don't want to talk about him, ever again." He said dangerously, carelessly dropping his wrapper to the floor and glaring at Lip. "I'm done with this bull-shit."

Lip looked pained again. "Something happened at the hospital."

Mickey had to use the last of his reserves to control his facial expression after that remark. He decided to get out fast before he broke down and asked about Ian like a bitch. He had to get out of here. The last thing Mick heard as the door bells jingled behind him was "he loves you, you know". He tried to blink back the tears threatening to fall as he moved away quickly. He was done with this bull-shit.

-

"I saw Mickey today." Lip told Ian quietly as he sat across from his brother in his small hospital room. He had been talking to the red-head's back for the better part of an hour with no response. Ian looked over at him, dazed, which surprised Lip, Ian had been pretty out of it after his suicide attempt and because of all the sedatives the hospital had put him on, Ian had seemed to be almost incapable of moving at times, but at the mention of Milkovich...

"Does he hate me?" Came a small voice underneath the covers.

Lip shook his head.

"He doesn't know how."


End file.
